


The Boy Who Drank the Stars

by BrokenBones (Hikarinimichitasora)



Series: Crossover/Fusion Challenge [1]
Category: Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikarinimichitasora/pseuds/BrokenBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Leonard McCoy is cursed by the Wizard of the Waste to be a wrinkled old man, he doesn't waste any time in hunting down the only wizard he knows who could be powerful enough to lift the curse. Unfortunately, it seems that the heart-eating Wizard Jim Kirk can't even see Leonard is cursed, never mind cure it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Drank the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> A fusion/crossover between Star Trek and Howl's Moving Castle.
> 
> Bones as Sophie | Jim as Howl | Spock as Calcifer | Uhura and Chekov as Markl | Scotty as Turnip Head | Carol Marcus as Madame Suliman | Admiral Marcus as The King of Ingary | Sulu as Wizard Suliman | Khan as Witch of the Waste

“Have you not heard? They say Kirk came down from the Wastes?”

“Come to steal more hearts I’m sure.”

“I heard he eats them to remain eternally young.”

“Have you seen the ship? It’s beautiful. I didn’t expect it to be silver…”

Leonard sighed. As usual, idle chatter around the marketplace wove around him. No one really glanced his way to say hello. In the twenty-nine years he’d lived in the small, Waste-edge town, he’d managed to make himself fade into the background fairly well.

Perhaps too well.

His wife, Jocelyn, hadn’t even seemed to notice he was gone most of the time. In fact, she’d forgotten him so completely that he’d found her in the arms of another man, unable to express her apologies as she couldn’t even remember who he was.

It was latent magic, a wizard had once told him. A steady stream of it that had come in from the Wastes and wrapped Leonard up in a cloak not of invisibility, but of ‘unnoticedness’. Apparently it had latched onto Leonard’s natural inclinations for a quiet life, and given him his own unique brand of simply not existing most of the time.

The presence of an incredibly powerful wizard nearby would probably only excite the magic further. Leonard was more than prepared for a few days of his patients forgetting who they were waiting for and wandering into M’Benga’s office or confusedly telling Chapel that they wanted to see Doctor ‘Whasshisname’.

He gripped his cap against a sudden burst of wind, shuddering as it passed through his clothes. His waistcoat was scant protection against the early spring chill. Especially so close to the Wastes, where there seemed to always be a perpetual misty coldness that swept off the mountains.

It seemed the wind only increased in its tenacity to rid him of his hat however, and his grip loosened on it in time for it to detach from his head and blow down the street.

Leonard stumbled after it, stooping to try to catch it as the eddies of the wind buoyed it down the street. It only stopped when it hit the feet of someone else. Long legs, clad in black, impeccably shined boots, strapped with golden buckles. Then up. The man wore a black shirt, made from a luxurious fabric that seemed to shine slightly in the dim light. Leonard was sure he wouldn’t have been able to afford that even on a month’s salary. Over the top the man wore the most ostentatious gold cloak Leonard have ever seen, full of shimmering gold threads and intricately embroidered patterns along the hem.

_Flashy but unnecessary._

The man stooped to pick up the hat, dusting it off with long, elegant fingers. Leonard sighed, straightening up and waiting for the man to look straight through him in search of the hat’s owner. Instead brilliant blue eyes met his own, amusement in their depths. An easy smile stretched across the man’s handsome face and Leonard frowned when he realised the other wasn’t wearing a hat at all, decorum be damned. His hair was the colour of wheat, blond strands sticking up everywhere in the wind.

“I believe this is yours,” the man said, his accent sounding tempered and exotic. Leonard scowled and took his hat back with a distinct lack of grace.

“Thank you,” he replied, grudgingly. He was suspicious. Why could this man see him when everyone else in town could practically bump into him at that moment and not even notice his existence? For that matter, why weren’t others in town noticing this flashy newcomer?

“No problem. You know… you’re being followed,” the stranger said. Leonard raised an eyebrow.

“By you?” he challenged. The man just continued to smile, white teeth shining.

“And by others,” he replied. Leonard was slightly impressed that he had admitted to it at least.

“Who?” Leonard demanded. The stranger reached out and plucked, seemingly from thin air, a black, slimy tendril. It wriggled between his pinched fingertips, like a convulsing slug.

“Someone who won’t be as polite in greeting you as me. Buckle up, Bones,” the stranger said. An arm slid around his waist and he was suddenly being pulled through the street. One arm clamped around his waist, the other holding his hand almost reverently, fingers threaded together. Where they had been stood, mere moments before, a large black shape had loped into view, invisible to the market day crowds. It oozed olive green slime that shone like oil and its featureless face turned towards them with a sharp movement.

“What the hell is that?!” Leonard asked, his voice loud and shrill. The stranger was still grinning, glancing over his shoulder as they ran.

“A jealous ex-girlfriend,” he replied. Leonard’s mouth fell open.

“How can you joke? That thing is _clearly_ from the Wastes!” he protested. His feet were pounding against the pavement as they darted out of the square into side alley after side alley. Around every turn there seemed to be another figure, hideous and inhuman, mouths a gaping maw as they seemed to taste the air in order to sense their prey.

“Shit!”

The stranger pulled him sideways again, running and pulling until Leonard was almost taken clean off his feet. His heart was racing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps but the man beside him was completely unaffected apart from the light of mischief dancing in his eyes.

The figure was gaining on them. More were oozing from sides of buildings. Leonard tried not to follow them closely with his eyes, repulsion working along his skin and leaving trails of goosebumps.

“This way is a dead end! It leads to a sheer drop to the courtyard below!” Leonard warned, seeing the balcony fast approaching. The stranger just laughed.

“Hold on!” he said, then he was jumping, pulling Leonard with him even as the other tried to pull back against his vicelike grip. His boots left the ground and he closed his eyes tight against the harsh, unforgiving pavement that he was sure was rushing up towards him. He calculated the injuries from a drop of that height, knew that at best they’d get away with broken legs and those things catching up with them. Only when a good few seconds had passed did Leonard open his eyes.

“Walk for me. As though we’re on the ground,” the stranger said. Leonard looked around him then and realised they were stood in the middle of the sky, six feet away from the balcony edge. The stranger’s grip around his waist was the only thing preventing the fifty foot plummet to the ground below.

“I may throw up on ya,” Leonard announced, clutching onto the stranger’s heavy cloak and closing his eyes tightly as his stomach churned from being so high up. The stranger laughed, carefree even with certain death facing them should the spell fail.

“Are you able to walk?” he asked. “If you do, I can get you back to your practice faster.” His voice was deep and calm and Leonard tried to trust him. He began to reluctantly move his legs and they began to move through the air, floating like blossoms on the breeze.

When they began their descent, outside his practice, Leonard tried to keep his eyes tightly shut. If something went wrong, he didn’t want to see the ground coming towards him fast.

His feet finally touched the ground gently, the way a groom might put down a bride after carrying her over the threshold on the wedding night. He breathed a sigh of relief, his whole body shaking as he tried to contain his emotions.

“Well, see ya Bones,” the stranger said, grinning his eternal smile.

Leonard turned to him sharply, about to yell at him for the ridiculous and unoriginal nickname, but the stranger was gone.

Leonard looked to the sky, searching for a glint of gold amongst the grey Wasteland sky. There was no sign of the other anywhere.

Leonard didn’t know who was after him, or where the stranger had gone, but he did know one thing.

That gold cloaked stranger had been the heart-stealing Wizard, James Tiberius Kirk.

* * *

 

“One last patient, Doctor! I’m going to go ahead and go so sort any paperwork yourself!” Chapel called through the door. Leonard looked up from his medicine bottles long enough to nod absently and make a noise of assent. His mind was still turning over the encounter earlier that day. He didn’t feel like he’d had his heart stolen, though it still seemed to be beating pretty fast whenever he thought about it.

It had been fear. That’s what he told himself. And damn it, he was going to ignore the thought that Kirk’s eyes had seemed to glow in a way that had nothing to do with magic.

The door opened and closed.

“Just a minute and I’ll be right with you,” he said, turning a few glass bottles on the shelves so that their expiration dates were visible. A smell hit his nose, something odd and spiced that set the hairs on his neck on end.

“I am prepared to wait,” a voice replied, low and dangerous and dripping with magic. Leonard turned slowly around.

A man stood there, tall and dark. Unlike Kirk, there was nothing flashy about him. He wore simple black clothes, a grey cloak with the collar turned up towards his cheekbones which stood out razor sharp under his eyes. His expression was blank, his hair combed back from his face, his eyes dark and glinting in the late evening lamplight.

“Good evening, Doctor,” the man said. Leonard carefully moved so that his desk was between himself and the man. He could feel the _wrongness_ rolling off him in waves.

“Good evening. What can I do for you?” he asked. He didn’t want to be alone with this man, he realised. Where Kirk had been dangerous in a careless, adventurous way, this man seemed deadly. His voice made Leonard think of hammers on coffin nails, final and unforgiving.

“I have heard that there was an… interesting encounter for you today,” the man said. Leonard swallowed, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. He drew himself to his full height, moving towards the door so he could at least bolt out of it if needed.

“Who I associate with is my own damn business. If you haven’t got a medical issue, then please leave,” he said, walking to the door and opening it forcefully.

“What an intriguing Doctor indeed, to talk that way to the Wizard of the Waste.” The man’s eyes flashed with fury.

Leonard immediately felt cold all over, the scent of spice cloying his nostrils. A moment later he could feel a distinctive shudder go through him, the kind of feeling you get when you tread on a slug without shoes on. But no sooner had it started, than it ended.

He looked down at himself.

“Huh,” he said, unimpressed when he didn’t have paws or tiny green webbed feet. So much for the magic of the Wizard of the Waste.

“Your curse will be interesting to watch develop, Doctor McCoy. And don’t think of trying to tell someone. It’ll only make the whole thing worse,” the Wizard of the Waste warned. He then disappeared through the door, leaving Leonard staring after it.

“I have no idea what is going on anymore.”

* * *

 

The Wastes were disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence. There were things there that could kill you before you even knew they were there. Swamp diseases that could cause you to bleed from your eyes and the bitter cold that could cause hypothermia if you weren’t careful.

Leonard was afraid of it.

Yet that was where he found himself the next day.

His bones were weary already. His limbs ached in the damp and his diagnosed himself with arthritis in his knees at least, if not his hands. It was his hands that got to him the most, his joints no longer supple enough for him to be able to entertain continuing on as a doctor in the town.

That morning he’d woken feeling drained. He’d rushed to the mirror and seen his withered, age spotted face. He’d aged fifty years in a single night. His whole body shook as he made a mental note of all the imperfections. His eyes were hooded, rheumy hazel eyes set deep in his face, his skin wrinkled and lined like scrunched up paper. His hair had receded back from his forehead leaving him with a ring of snowy hair around the back of his head.

It was then that he had decided. He had packed his bag, throwing in clothes that barely fit him around his waist anymore, grabbing a walking stick he kept around for infirm patients. This had all started with Kirk, and he was going to find him and get him to lift this curse.

That was how he found himself traipsing through the Wastes, hoping against hope that he would come across the Enterprise, Kirk’s famed walking ship.

He was old and creaking and he ended up stopping regularly to catch his breath. As the altitude increased, he found his body struggling to keep up, his progress hampered by his need to rest his aching joints.

He sat down to get his lunch at what he assumed was midday. It was hard to tell against the overcast sky. A light drizzle had settled over the moors, drenching him to the core. He unwrapped his hastily prepared cheese sandwiches. He was about to bite into it when he heard a dull thud to his right.

“Oh hell no. What are you supposed to be?” Leonard said as he turned around. A scarecrow was perched there, swaying in the breeze. Around its neck was a sign reading ‘Scotty’. Its head was made of a whiskey barrel and its clothes were red tatters hanging from its broom handle frame.

“’Scotty’ eh?” Leonard read before shaking his head morosely. “Well, you’re of no use to me. Am I going to find a tin man and a talking lion next?” he asked, aware his own voice was cracking with age. The scarecrow jumped on the spot excitedly.

“So you can’t even talk? Well, Liquor-head, what good are you? At this rate I’m never going to find Kirk’s infernal contraption,” he grumbled. The scarecrow began to twirl and Leonard looked up at it, bemused. It began to hop forward and Leonard scowled before packing away his sandwich to follow.

Was it trying to lead him to Kirk? Or was it leading him astray, like a bouncing but flamboyant will-o-the-wisp?

But then the fog rolled back and there it was. A hulking silver mass, beautiful yet ungainly, wading through the fog with its bow shaped like a gaping maw. The scarecrow bounded towards it then hopped on the spot.

Leonard was almost sure it was pointing.

It was a struggle to catch up with the ship, with its long strides. Even more of a struggle to haul his aged bones onto the makeshift door in the ship’s stern. He turned, waving his thanks to the scarecrow below. The scarecrow hopped a few times before disappearing in the fog, no longer trying to keep up. Leonard turned and opened the door, entering the ship.

It wasn’t what he had expected. A slovenly, unhygienic kitchen met his eyes. Dirty dishes were scattered across every surface dirty clothes everywhere, a puddle that looked like spilled beer in the corner.

Leonard wrinkled his nose. _Gross. You’d have thought that the most prestigious wizard of our age could have hired a cleaning lady._

He walked to the fire, sinking into a chair before it. He rubbed his hands together, holding them out before the fire for a moment. He could feel the warmth drying out the damp from his skin and clothes.

“It is most unusual for someone to enter the Enterprise uninvited,” A voice said. Leonard jumped and looked around the room, guiltily. But Kirk wasn’t there, there was no one to scold him. In fact, the room appeared empty, even in light of the unattended fire.

“I wonder who you are,” the voice continued. “Although logic dictates that you want something from Jim, and that he is aware of your existence if the ship has allowed you aboard.”

Leonard’s eyes locked onto the fire and he was shocked to see a face there. Pointed ears, weird eyebrows, dark deep eyes, but definitely a face.

“So, what are you then?” Leonard asked. Right now he’d believe anything. He was done with pretending his life might return to normal.

“I am a fire, as is plainly obvious,” the fire said. Leonard raised an eyebrow and found that the flame-face mirrored his expression.

“A talking fire. So do you have a name, or am I going to have to call you flame-face?” Leonard asked. The fire stared at him for a long moment.

“My name would be unpronounceable to your mortal tongue, so I will ask you simple to call me ‘Spock’,” the fire said. Leonard nodded.

“Doctor Leonard McCoy. Call me Leona-“

“SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCK!”

Leonard jumped, clutching his heart. A whirlwind seemed to shoot down the stairs, knocking pictures on the wall askew as it blazed down in a blur of black, gold and dazzling blue.

“We’ve got more orders! We need to pick up Chekov and Uh-“

Kirk stopped, staring at Leonard dumbly. For a moment, Leonard wondered if the other recognised him but then the light in Kirk’s eyes went out again. Leonard wasn’t sure if he was disappointed.

“Did we hire a handyman or something?” Kirk asked, his eyes puzzled. He seemed to wear every emotion on his face, in his eyes, though there was something guarded there as well. Leonard wasn’t sure if he was disappointed by the idea that Kirk couldn’t see past the wrinkles or glad.

“Negative, Jim. We merely picked up the Doctor on his way to the edge of the Wastes,” Spock replied. Leonard cleared his throat, used to being talked about as though he weren’t there, but finding it hard to keep quiet when it was clear that everyone in the room could _see him_.

“Excuse you both. I’m not here as your goddamn handyman. I’m a doctor, not a DIY specialist. The name’s Doctor Leonard McCoy. I’m here to-“ Leonard felt his tongue seize up and the breath go out of his lungs before he could get out the real reason why he was there. “-to learn medical magic,” he lied. Kirk looked at him long and hard and then shrugged.

“Not going to learn it here. I don’t deal with that kind of stuff,” he said, the easy smile back in place. Leonard didn’t scowl, even though he wanted to. He needed an excuse to stay though, and he wasn’t sure how.

“But, you know, the more the merrier and all that. You can help bottle up potions if you’re a doctor. You’ll probably be better at it than Chekov,” Kirk said, cheerfully clapping Leonard on the back. “Welcome to the family, Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard wasn’t sure that a talking fire and an insane wizard who couldn’t even spot powerful black magic was a _family_ but he’d take what he could get.

At that moment there was a dinging sound and the door opened. Leonard stared. The door had opened onto the Wastes moments before, but now it seemed to open onto a harbour in a busy city. Two figures stepped through, a tall, striking black woman and beside her a teenage boy with a head of curls.

“Kirk, if you send us on a fool’s errand like that again, then I swear I will-“ the woman stopped speaking, blinking at Leonard. She looked at Kirk for a moment then she rolled her eyes and poked the teenager.

“Pavel, go wash up for dinner,” she ordered, before looking around the room. “And dear lord, how did you manage to trash this place in less than a week? You didn’t even clean out Spock! You are a disgrace Kirk!”

She pointed towards the dishes and they began to rearrange themselves before Leonard’s eyes. He watched as dirty plates began to scrape themselves clean, wash themselves and stack into cupboards. Trash bags filled and tied themselves into knots.

This woman was clearly a powerful witch.

“Did you get it?” Kirk bounded forward, seeming not to notice how annoyed the woman appeared that he was so close to her. She brushed past him, but Leonard noticed that she had a slight smile on her face.

“Nyota Uhura,” she said softly, holding out her hand to him. Leonard smiled as he took it, kissing it.

“Leonard McCoy. Forgive me for not getting up. Old bones and all that,” he replied. Her eyes crinkled.

“You have a young spirit though, I can tell,” she said as she laughed. Leonard kept his face carefully neutral. Behind her, Kirk was loitering like an overexcited puppy. She busied herself by sweeping the ash carefully out of the fire and feeding more flames carefully to Spock within.

“It’s on the table, for goodness’ sake Jim,” Nyota said finally, when Jim pawed at her arm. He whooped and walked over to the table, snatching up a package and disappearing. Only once he was gone did Nyota turn to Leonard.

“A very complicated curse has been done to you,” she said softly. Leonard looked up at her, surprised that she would address it. His own tongue tied itself in knots as he tried to acknowledge she was right.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me about it. I can see it. It’s written all over you. I am surprised Jim hasn’t seen it though,” she said, her dark eyes flicking back to the stairs. They narrowed slightly but Leonard paid it no heed.

“I’m not some pretty girl to save,” Leonard replied simply. “I doubt the heart-stealing Wizard wants much to do with me.”

Nyota laughed, though it sounded a little hollow.

“Well, if you’re still young at heart, you can help me and Chekov prepare dinner. You can stir while I chop the ingredients.”

Leonard instantly liked her.

* * *

 

Time passed.

Leonard got to know the oddballs and misfits that made up the Enterprise. He knew that Spock would occasionally interject into conversations from his spot on the fire, often misunderstanding the conversation by taking it too literally. Kirk would laugh and correct him, affectionately feeding him kindling or scraps of coal.

Nyota enjoyed to sing, but she hated housework. She’d been only too happy to have an extra set of hands to offload jobs that she hated. She worked on ostentatious spells that looked impressive, though she admitted that much of the effect was added whizzbangs and sparkles. She sold the spells to women in the city, claiming they would gain them admirers and not answering the door when they called again.

Chekov was a wonder child. Leonard quickly learned that it was Chekov’s system that channelled Spock’s magic through the ship, keeping it moving and meaning that it wouldn’t buckle under the weight of something so trifling as physics. Not that Chekov disliked physics. He was not a Wizard himself, and had no talent for it, but he understood forces and particles and things that made Leonard’s head spin. He’d tuned out when Chekov had started to explain how everything came together on the Enterprise.

Then there was Kirk himself.

Leonard had many preconceived ideas of what James Tiberius Kirk would be like, but not that he would prefer to go by the name ‘Jim’, nor that he might spend his evenings deep in thought playing chess against a talking fire. Kirk’s clothes remained flashy, his personality smug and arrogant, but there were hints of something greater beneath it, a confidence that made Leonard believe that maybe, just maybe, Kirk wasn’t just some heartthrob girlfriend stealer.

And the ship… The Enterprise terrified Leonard and filled him with awe in equal measure. Spending time above deck as the mists of the Wastes swirled around him never failed to calm him, even when the rage of his situation threatened to overcome him. Sometimes he stood there for hours, until his clothes were damp, his cheeks flushed, his joints aching, but his head was clear. The Enterprise clanked around him, bits fell off and crashed to the ground, but the view of the mountains and moorlands were too great for Leonard to care too much.

The innate magic still set him on edge slightly, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d been expecting. Jim seemed to perform most menial tasks without the help of magic. In fact, Uhura was more prone to casting a quick spell to do the washing up than Jim was. Although Jim didn’t exactly help out with keeping the place clean. He spent most of his time out on various dates, if Chekov was to be believed, or else in his room mooning over new girls.

Leonard thought it was stupid and vapid and couldn’t help but be a little jealous. It had been years since he’d been on a date, but he knew he hadn’t been exactly _bad looking_ before the curse. It’d have been nice to meet a nice girl and go dancing.

“B-Leonard! Leonard, come down here!”

Leonard had been slowly making his way up to the ship’s deck when Jim called. He groaned. Didn’t that idiot realise how difficult it was to get up and down these stairs for him? He turned on the stairs, gripping the bannister hard as he began to make his way back down.

He was half way down when Jim’s head appeared around the bottom of the staircase. His eyes widened and he leapt up the steps with a few bounds that left Leonard grumbling. Jim just grinned at him though, offering his arm.

Leonard thought about keeping his pride and ignoring it. His hand tightened on the bannister, trying his best not to catch Jim’s eye. He felt a warm arm wrap around his waist though, the other taking his arm in such a parody of how Jim had walked him across the skies that for a moment he could almost feel his feet lifting from the ground. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

But then he was brought back to his aching old bones. Jim led him down the stairs carefully, eyes on him with a fond, gentle look. Leonard got to the bottom and instantly reached for the cane that Chekov left for him down there, gripping it with his curled over fingers.

“What is it you wanted, Jim?” he asked, starting to shuffle towards the fire and what he hoped was a full kettle heating beside Spock. Jim followed him, watching him curiously, like he’d never seen an old person before.

“I wanted your advice,” Jim said softly. “Spock’s given me his but I want to know what you think. The King has summoned me. He wants me to go to war, to fight for him and use the Enterprise to destroy his enemies.”

Leonard hummed softly. Uhura and Chekov had spent the last week dodging the King’s men when they went on errands, sometimes slamming doors behind them as official looking messengers tried to pin them down on Jim’s location.

“But the Enterprise wasn’t built for war and those who are aboard the Enterprise are certainly not built for it,” Leonard replied, pouring hot water onto the tea leaves in the tea pot and watching as it began to diffuse. Jim stayed behind him. He could almost feel how close he was.

“If I don’t go, he’ll come after me as though I’m his enemy,” Jim replied. Leonard stirred the tea and shuffled over to the cabinet where the tea cups were. He retrieved two, though with some stretching required (had he lost height?). He laid them beside the fire, carefully straining it as he poured before pushing one to Kirk.

“I’m a doctor, not a soldier. If you take the Enterprise to war, well, I’ll go back to my hometown I guess,” he replied. Jim sat down next to the fire, grabbing a blanket that Uhura kept there for colder nights and waiting until Leonard sat down before spreading it over his legs. Leonard appreciated the thoughtfulness of the gesture, even as it rankled that Jim felt he had to do that for him.

“There’s got to be another option…” Jim murmured. In the fire place, Spock regarded the two of them silently. Leonard sipped his tea, allowing the warmth to sink into his body. Before he realised what was happening he was drifting off, floating into sleep-

“I know!”

Leonard jumped, his teacup falling to the floor with a clunk. Jim didn’t pay it any heed though. He was out of his chair and pacing, up and down.

“You can go to Marcus. She’s an absolute babe and she’ll be sure to listen to you. You can convince her to get her father not to pursue us. I’m sure of it! Once we’ve convinced her, then she’ll be able to convince her father and it’ll all be sorted!” Jim said, brightly. Leonard raised an eyebrow, feeling like this plan wouldn’t work already.

“And why does it have to be me? I’m a cantankerous old man, Jim, not a handsome blond with exuberant charm,” Leonard pointed out, reaching down to pick up his tea cup. When he straightened up, Jim was close, his face centimeters away it seemed. Leonard felt his heart thud in his chest strangely.

“She’ll listen to you, Leonard. Do this for me and I promise you, I’ll do anything,” Jim promised, his eyes shining with what Leonard could only describe as starlight even though he knew it was just a trick of Spock’s fire.

“Anything?” he repeated, needing to be sure. He could ask Jim to break his curse, to get back to his town, back to his practice and leave this crazy world behind…

“Anything, Leonard. Just get me out of this war.”

_** [To be continued.] ** _


End file.
